Dear Reader,
I love Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year (don’t worry, I would never proselytize, I just haven’t reached my point yet). To my brain, it makes sense that the year cutoff mark would happen in early autumn. The end of summer—the dead grass, the intolerable heat—feels like the slow death of an old year. So do the crunchy dead leaves on the sidewalk. In the United States, crops are harvested in the autumn (I always look forward to apple-picking), which feels like the birth of a new year. The leaves on the sidewalk are dead, but the riot of colorful trees in early autumn somehow feels like the beginning of life. Early autumn always reminds me of the beginning of a new school year, too. On Rosh Hashanah, I can look forward to good things in the near future, like Yom Kippur (I know, this is an unpopular opinion) and Halloween. I love that Rosh Hashanah marks the day when I can start saying the shehecheyanu again—a blessing for new and miraculous experiences—on little things that most people consider mundane, like an apple. And there’s a grounding, comforting certainty in that I can expect to enjoy traditions every Rosh Hashanah: I’ll hear someone blow a shofar, my dad will give me a honey cake, I’ll throw bread into nearby flowing water (and try not to feed the ducks or fish), I’ll eat a Pink Lady apple with honey, etc.
I find the concept of New Year’s Eve to be tremendously difficult.
For starters, I hate parties. Part of this is the fact that the pandemic hasn’t ended, but I’m also just ill-suited for parties anyway. I don’t drink or do drugs. I’m not good at socializing. I don’t like much noise. I don’t want the pressure of some perfect New Year’s kiss. I don’t enjoy one of the central New Year’s Eve traditions: to make a resolution. I hate that the new year feels like it’s tied up in damaging things like diet culture and productivity culture. I don’t like making a resolution when I know that statistically, I’m probably going to fail. My brain also finds it confusing that the new year would happen in mid-winter, when the season doesn’t reflect the birth of a new year. The only thing New Year’s Eve marks is the end of Christmas decorations. I specifically love trees wrapped in string lights, and I don’t like that New Year’s is the day when they’ll all disappear. I have a Vitamin D deficiency and I’m prone to the seasonal blues, so January is particularly hard for me. February is even worse. In the past, New Year’s Eve has felt like there’s nothing bright in my near future. And on a New Year’s Eve a few years ago, I learned that someone I once knew died.
Maybe you love New Year’s Eve, dear reader, and if that’s the case, then I’m so happy for you. You should keep participating in the things you love (safely)! I don’t want to even vaguely disparage the things that bring you joy. I’m only talking about my own experience here. May you drink a hundred more glasses of champagne (or sparkling apple cider)! May you make a thousand more resolutions! May you have a million more midnight kisses!
But maybe you find New Year’s Eve difficult, too. That’s perfectly normal. This can be a hard time of year for all of us. It’s okay not to enjoy certain traditions that you’re supposed to enjoy. If these traditions aren’t healthy or right for you, you don’t have to force yourself into an ill-fitting box just because that’s what you’re “supposed to do.”
If you live in the Global North and you’re able to treat December 31st like any other day, that’s astounding. It’s much harder to ignore a massive holiday than it is to forge your own traditions in its place—like going to the movies and eating Chinese food on Christmas. Many years ago, I completely discarded the traditional concept of New Year’s Eve and made my own New Year’s Eve, which I will share with you now:
I need a quiet space to process the death of an old year and the birth of a new year, so I don’t attend any parties (even before the pandemic). I wash my laundry and my sheets, even if I don’t “need” to wash them. I take a long shower and do my full skincare routine, including a mask. This is the sum total of my cleaning, because I don’t want to wake up exhausted. I don’t make any resolutions. Instead, I make sure to have plans (they don’t even have to be with other people!) so that I have something to look forward to in the near future. For my meal this year, I’m having store-bought hors d’oeuvres1 with homemade blueberry lemon cheesecake bars2 (made ahead of time) for dessert. I watch When Harry Met Sally, which is the perfect New Year’s Eve romantic comedy3 (it’s actually the perfect movie, period). And you may already know my daily gratitude practice, but I write down three nice things that bring me joy (no matter how small). I make New Year’s Eve festive, but it’s festive my way.
When I type it all out, it sounds a little exhausting, but it's much easier than it sounds! On January 1st, I wake up with soft skin and clean hair, on fresh sheets, hopeful for the future. There’s no pile of laundry to greet me when I begin the new year. Sometimes I don't realize I needed to wash my laundry until I wake up the next day. I never begin the new year regretting social mishaps, and I never wake up feeling sick from being out too late. I just wake up with a deep appreciation for Nora Ephron.4 Oddly, it's a much healthier foundation to accomplish things that (in an alternate universe) I would otherwise resolve to accomplish on New Year's Eve. There's no pressure to make the year perfect immediately. Maybe it will be a good year or maybe it will be a bad year, but I'm beginning this year with moisturized skin and clean sheets no matter what.
You don’t have to adopt these traditions. I know that not everyone wants to watch When Harry Met Sally every year. It’s the right New Year’s Eve tradition for me because for me, romantic comedies are incredibly comforting. I find it relaxing to do my full skincare routine. I love curling up to sleep on clean sheets. I think it’s a relief to wake up with no laundry on my new year’s to-do list. You probably have many other things that would enable you to begin a new year in your own best possible way!
Maybe you’d like to watch After the Thin Man. Maybe you’d like to wake up to a spotless kitchen. Maybe you’d like to do nothing but read books until you can hear the birds chirping. Maybe you’d like to participate in some New Year’s traditions but not others: watch the fireworks but don’t attend a party, for example. I hope you give it some thought. You’re the only one who can answer this question for yourself. It’s important to embrace the things that energize you, and let go of the things that enervate you. There’s no better time than New Year’s Eve.
Love, Lily
I think Bridget Jones’s Diary is also a good New Year’s Eve romantic comedy! It’s not part of my tradition but it might be soon. I wish I could add a footnote to a footnote (the most Lily thing I’ve ever said), but: People often say Bridget Jones’s Diary is a Christmas movie, which is absurd. The movie begins with one new year and ends with another! It’s framed by Bridget making resolutions! The wintery vibes are because it’s a New Year’s movie! But sure, Colin Firth wears a reindeer sweater.
I had to spell this word five times. I studied French for six years and lived in a French-speaking country for three months.
If you make these, I recommend adding more zest! This time I’m zesting two large lemons.
Can you believe she never won an Oscar for her screenwriting? Not even an honorary one!
Photo by Ray Hennessy on Unsplash
Happy new year! Thank you for sharing all of this. My new years plans have evolved over the years, especially since having kids. One new years, long ago, I had dinner with friends in NYC, they all went to a party, and I wandered down to the East Village, and stumbled into Jeff Buckley playing at a small folk club. 2000 was one of my favorites. I started the day with no plans, ended up having a lovely dinner with friends, followed by a low key party with another group of friends. (The next day was kind of a disaster; I had to work at 6am, and then my crush came to stay over night.) The last time I really went out on new years was ten years ago, when my wife and I were still dating, and we went to a prix fixe dinner at an amazing (and sadly long gone) restaurant in Harvard Square. This year, the older kid had friends stay over, and I did laundry, caught up on email, and relaxed.
This is lovely. Happy New Year! 🎉